Reign of Dreamers
by ThePrettiestHell
Summary: *HOF/QOS/EOS spoilers* Set after Empire of Storms. Terrasen's court and its allies rescue their queen and survive the battle with Erawan. This is life afterwards.
1. Found

**This was originally going to be a one-shot, but now I'm thinking a few chapters...maybe more depending on how long my inspiration lasts. I do think my wishful thinking would be easy to write. Especially since TOG6 is a long ways away :(**

 **It'll probably be more focused on life (or what I want it to be) after Aelin's rescue and after the almost-definitely-going-to-happen battle with Erawan (I'll probably skin over the fighting and all that because I have no interest in writing it...sorry).**

 **I haven't decided if it'll be an actual story or a collection of snippets/one-shots through time, if that makes any sense at all.**

 **We shall see how it all goes.**

 **This is a short one, more used as a introduction.**

 **Anyways, enjoys, my lovelies.**

* * *

Rowan had been unsuccessful in his attempts to locate where the bitch that was Maeve had taken Aelin.

His queen.

His Fireheart.

His mate.

After the ship had disappeared from the Stone Marshes, Rowan had no leads. He had managed to get information from Doranelle and Mistward that Maeve hadn't returned to either location, nor was she in any other stronghold that she kept.

The Fae warrior had returned to Terrasen after a month of searching. He needed to start anew and with fresh eyes. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Rowan needed help if there was any chance of getting Aelin back.

When he arrived at the castle, he took note of the weathered stone mixed with the new materials from rebuilding. It looked like Darrow had been working hard to rebuild the castle he so desperately wanted to be his.

According to Lysandra though, once the lords of Terrasan had seen the army that Aelin had called in every one of her life debts to create, they had readily recognized her as the Queen of Terrasen. They were apparently sick of Darrow's overbearing rule.

The shapeshifter, the general, the silver-haired Fae, and the dishonored cadre members spent every free minute trying to find their queen. While Lysandra, in Aelin's form, and Aedion stayed in Terrasen taking care of affairs, Rowan tracked down every lead they came up with, but with no avail.

A month later, Chaol Westfall and Nesryn Faliq showed up at the castle, having secured an alliance with the Southern Continent. The King's Hand seemed happy enough with his progress, only needing a wooden cane to help him get around until his spine fully healed. A few more months, the healers had said.

Not a week later, Abraxos landed on the front lawn, the King of Adarlan and the Crochan Queen on his back, the Thirteen on their wyverns behind them. They had been successful on their own mission, finding the lost Crochans. To Rowan's surprise, they had embraced Manon as their queen. The alliance with the witches could turn the tides of the war that would inevitably come.

The war with Erawan was secondary to Aelin's rescue. Aedion had entrusted his most loyal commander to work out the details of their armies. He worked alongside Ansel of Briarcliff, Ilias of the Silent Assassins, Captain Rolfe, and Asterin Blackbeak. The plans that had been sent to the Wolf daily could possibly win the war.

With the war being handled, the group put everything they had into locating Aelin.

Three months, one week, and five days.

That's how long Maeve had had Aelin in her grasp.

That was how long it took Rowan, their court, and their allies to find her location.

One week later, the group set out to rescue their queen.

And they would rattle the stars to do so.

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 **Coming chapters/one-shots will be more lengthy. I just needed this as a starter.**

 **I hope you liked it.**

 **Please comment, review, follow, etc. if you enjoyed it.**

 **I thrive on love, as well as writing advice.**

 **Tootles!**


	2. Rescued

Maeve, it seemed, had built a small fortress on a tiny, uninhabited island west of the Wastes. It was not a stronghold that Rowan was familiar with, meaning she had obtained and built it after he had broken the blood oath.

With so many allies now backing Terrasen, so many individuals that specialized in obtaining information without alerting others, they had also learned that the remaining members of the cadre as well as Maeve's strongest warriors were on that island.

They decided that it would be Rowan, Lysandra, Aedion, Dorian, Gavriel, Lorcan, Manon, and a few of the Thirteen along with their wyvern that would rescue Aelin. Elide had fumed at the news, but understood why. Although Lorcan and Asterin were teaching her to properly fight, she would only slow them down if someone had to be watching her back.

They stormed the fortress and attacked full force and though Maeve had a league of Fae warriors behind her, they had not expected the witches and wyverns to be working with Terrasen's court. The immortal females and their mounts had made the difference.

Lorcan and Aedion had done a number on Cairn as retribution for what he had done to Aelin. It was a slow, painful death for the sadistic Fae. The witches and the rest of the group had fought against the other warriors with only an order to incapacitate Fenrys and his twin, but not kill. Rowan knew that Fenrys had done a lot for his queen, he deserved a chance to live.

Rowan had gone up again Maeve, Dorian at his side. It was Maeve against two anger-driven males with a vast well of power between them. The dark bitch queen fended them off with her darkness, but even her power had a bottom. When she was flagging, Rowan and Dorian took turns freezing parts of her one by one.

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius then sent a forceful gust in the direction of the queen, sending her frozen body shattering against the wall. The Fae warrior wished he could have made her suffer for the suffering she had caused, but Rowan needed to reach Aelin.

The iron box that Elide and Manon had described to him had been placed next to the throne carved from black marble. Rowan could almost see Maeve sitting on that throne, with a hand practically petting the iron that his mate was in. His blood boiled as he tugged on the mating bond and felt nothing but emptiness.

Slowly, warily, Rowan approached the box. He directed a stream of ice at the lock, using his strength to shatter it. He took a deep breath and snarled. He could smell the scent of Aelin's blood coming from within the box mingled with the scent of infection. Oh, how he wished he could tortured Maeve just a little bit more.

The silver-haired male shoved the lid of the box away and it took all that he had not to let the tears that stung his eyes fall. Aelin was unconscious, curled onto her side, back facing him.

Gods. Her back. Oh, gods.

The skin and the scars that he had once tattooed, once touched and kissed every inch of, were absolutely wrecked. There were barely any traces of the black ink or pale skin that Rowan had become acquainted with.

Blood dribbled out from the expanse of the injury, line on top of line of lashings that no doubt came from a whip. The flesh was absolutely torn. Rowan couldn't help it as he emptied his stomach on the floor. Wiping at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, he knelt on the floor. He would leave the healing of the wounds to Yrene, the healer who Chaol and Nesryn said insisted on returning to Terrasen with them. Rowan needed to get rid of the traces of infection though.

After doing so, Rowan shifted to the other side of the box, to face his unconscious mate. She was naked from the waist up, ankles and wristed chained in iron her beautiful face covered by an intricate iron mask. The silver Prince gently removed the mask and broke the irons.

She had lost so much weight, her face gaunt and her skin lacking the sun-kissed color from the time they had spent at sea. Rowan used his hand to brush limp blonde hair from Aelin's face, a whimper escaping her lips.

"Oh, Fireheart," he said in a shaky whisper.

The fighting seemed to have ended as soon as Maeve had been shattered. Rowan could hear tentative footsteps and the padding of a ghost leopard paws coming towards him.

"We have to find some way to transport her that won't disturb the…lashes," Fenrys said quietly. Rowan looked to the male he had trained centuries ago, noting the look of despair present in his eyes. Connall, in wolf form was being watched by Asterin a few paces away.

They had discussed a number of possibilities, and as much they all hated the idea, it was the best they had. Aelin would remain in the box as she was too hurt to be moved to and fro too much, let alone travel on the back of a wyvern. The box would be secured and carried in the claws of Asterin's sky blue mount.

When they were all in the air, Dorian shaped his raw magic into flame and set the fortress ablaze, Rowan's wind fueling the fire.

Ҩ

Yrene Towers had been waiting for the group's return to Terrasan and once she said it was alright, Rowan used his wind to lift his mate into the castle and their rooms. Elide had been waiting anxiously and let out a sob at the sight of her queen's mangled back. Lorcan had made an attempt to comfort her, but she flinched away from his touch, turning to Asterin for comfort instead.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Rowan held Aelin's hand in his own as the healer worked on knitting together the wounds on her back. He could hear pacing outside of the bedroom door where the rest of the court waited restlessly.

It was hours before Yrene finished, wanting to make sure everything was done right. She had healed all the physical wounds, but Aelin's return to consciousness was up to her. It could be hours or days, she had said.

Since her back was healed aside from pink scars where shredded flesh had been, Rowan had gently turn his queen only her back before he let the rest of their family into the room. Elide stayed by Aelin's side all day along with Rowan and Lysandra, the latter in ghost leopard form on the bed next to the queen.

Fleetfoot had also not left Aelin's side since her arrival in Terrasen and was currently curled up, golden muzzle on the blonde's stomach.

Ҩ

Rowan did not leave their room for days, having his work brought to him. He wanted Aelin to return to a kingdom in the midst of rebuilding, not on the verge of crumbling. The silver Prince had brought in a small work table so he could look over documents and his wife at the same time.

He was beyond worried about why Aelin hadn't awoken yet, but Yrene insisted that it was normal the horrors that their queen had endured. She said the unconsciousness allowed Aelin to heal mentally, to piece together and handle what had occurred.

Six days and fourteen hours. That's how long Aelin was unconscious for after their return to Terrasan. Rowan had been staring at some document for ten minutes when he felt the bond, much deeper than the _carranam_ bond, flicker awake. He knew, Rowan knew that his mate was finally waking up. He had practically shoved the table over, papers flying, to get to the edge of the bed.

Aelin's turquoise and gold eyes fluttered open as Rowan fell to his knees at the bedside. He let out a shuddering whisper of his wife's name, a tear hitting the silken sheets on the bed.

"Fireheart," Rowan said more clearly as Aelin's eyes met his.

"Buzzard," she managed to rasp out, either from disuse or screaming, Rowan didn't want to decide.

The queen's consort choked out a laugh before peppering light kisses on the back of Aelin's hand, slowly moving up her arm, before resting his forehead against the cool skin of his queen's.

They were back together. In Terrasen. Home.

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Love and advice is appreciated.

Fluff (assuming I can write it) to come in the next chapter.


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